


405.5_cntrl+R_cmd

by swishydetective



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Everyone being a little shit, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Mr.Robot Season 4 spoilers, Pining, Robot stops being such a cockblocker, Season/Series 04, Stitches, Touch theory, Tyrell finally getting his kiss, Tyrell is alive, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 06:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21351562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swishydetective/pseuds/swishydetective
Summary: what if we could press a key and simply have a refresh on our lives, a second shot? well, elliot is about to find out if he likes that.
Relationships: Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	405.5_cntrl+R_cmd

The dark room was only lit by the blue light of the screens in front of which Elliot was sitting. The hotel was easy enough to break into. Security was lacking and the guard had left running as soon as Elliot had sent a text from his husband telling him to get home quickly. He had eyes on the lobby and the conference room where it would all go down. Price was sat at one of the tables already, tapping a pen against the table nervously. 

“I have a weird feeling about this, kiddo.”

“There’s nothing we can do now, Price is here, the Deus Group is about to get together… And I guess they’ll have to…” Elliot trailed off, his voice not allowing him to utter the words. 

“Find a replacement,” said Robot, pacing behind him. 

“She’s not going to like this, Price resigning is already going against her plan,” he whispered, looking away from the screen, turning to Robot. 

The figure of his father stood incredibly still suddenly. Elliot looked back to the screens, watching as Whiterose and the other members of the Deus Group walked in. Price stood up, tense. 

“Now we wait,” Robot stated. 

The door of the conference room flung open once again, startling the group. The man walked with a limp, but his shoulders were straight, confident. He wore his blue suit, which made his eyes striking even from the tiny screen. 

Elliot stood from the chair, sending it crashing against the wall. 

“What the fuck?!” 

Robot’s eyes were just as wide as his, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. 

“Put the sound on!”

Elliot pressed the key forcefully, wanting to hear his voice, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming this up. 

“Mr. Wellick, we weren’t expecting you,” remarked Price, scanning the room and trying to make sure no one else would barge in. 

“Ah, well, there was a little inconvenient, it has since been resolved,” he smiled, looking directly at Whiterose. 

They sat down and started talking business. Elliot couldn’t hear a single thing anymore, his ears ringing, his mind going rogue on him. Robot was saying something behind him but he couldn’t make out exactly what. 

“... How the hell did he survive? … Had to have found someone… Elliot. Kiddo. Snap out of it!” 

The meeting was adjourned, Price and Whiterose looking equally angry, while the other members seemed mostly annoyed to have been forced to meet on Christmas Day. 

Before Robot could say anything, Elliot was out of the room, running towards the main floor of the expensive hotel, not caring at all if he was seen. He arrived in front of the double doors, ready to open them and ruin everything they had planned, but Robot caught him just in time and forced him into a broom closet next to it. Whiterose and the other members walked out, followed by Price a few moments later. Tyrell was still in the room. 

“Listen, we can’t be seen right now, or this will all be for nothing. You just have to wait, we will get answers—” 

“How the hell is he still here? He walked away, with a bullet wound, because of me because I didn’t care enough—Because I let him walk towards that van when I should have—” 

“Stop that shit!” snapped Robot, taking him by the shoulders, “go and ask him yourself, they’re gone.” 

They stormed out and into the conference room, where Tyrell was trying to get up from the table, at a great expense it seemed. He was grimacing, holding a hand to his side where he had been shot only hours ago. 

He barely saw Elliot arrive before the hacker pushed him back onto his chair. 

“What the hell? How are you here? I watched you—You-” 

“Bonsoir, Elliot,” smiled Tyrell through the pain. 

He looked at the man with wide, erratic eyes. 

“I told you, I was just going for a walk,” he  _ laughed _ . 

Robot took him by the collar, just as angry as Elliot. 

“Jesus Christ! Why the hell did you do that?!” 

Tyrell looked him straight in the eye: 

“Honestly, I didn’t think I was going to make it. But also, you deserved that.” 

Both Elliot and Robot moved back, hurt. He passed a hand in front of his eyes nervously, feeling the tears creep in. He didn’t know how to take it. On the one hand, he was so relieved Tyrell hadn’t died because of him, but on the other, it made him feel just as bad because he was right: he did deserve to suffer. He had treated him like shit and then he had sent him off to die alone. He looked into Tyrell’s eyes, not saying anything. 

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” whispered Tyrell, his gaze unwavering but losing its harshness. 

“No, you’re right. I did. Deserve it.” 

They fell silent. Tyrell got up painfully and they stood there, both hurt. 

“Right, well I guess I should go home, prepare for my first day as CEO tomorrow…” 

He started to walk away and something in Elliot just clicked. He ran after him and tugged at his sleeve, making him turn around as he assaulted him with a hug. Tyrell stood still, shocked at the sudden physical contact. He warmed to it and held Elliot’s narrow frame back, brushing his thumbs against his back. Elliot let out a shaky breath, finally letting himself accept this was real. 

They let go and Elliot looked down, not knowing what to say. He seemed to be prone to outbursts of bravery lately. 

“Sorry.” 

The pair had barely moved, still up in each other’s personal space. Elliot then noticed the dark stain on Tyrell’s stomach. 

“You’re bleeding!” 

“I— I must have popped a stitch…” 

“You need to get sewn back up.” 

“It’s nothing, Elliot, I’ll be fine.” 

“We’re in a hotel there must be a first aid kit somewhere in the rooms.” 

The Swede stopped protesting and he limped with Elliot to the elevator. He pressed a random button and they ended up on the fifth floor. Elliot whipped out his laptop and quickly hacked his way into a room, helping Tyrell sit down on the bed. He went through the closet and found the first aid kit. He found a few bottles of various alcohols in the mini fridge and tossed them on the bed next to Tyrell, who was carefully untucking his shirt from his slacks and unbuttoning it. Elliot found some cottons to soak up the blood and some thread and a needle. He looked over his shoulder, watching Tyrell. His shirt was open, revealing his chest and the fresh wound. 

“Do you even know how to do this?” asked Robot, back again. 

“It can’t be that hard. I’ve seen other people do it.” 

Tyrell looked up at him, smiling reassuringly. He took the tiny Smirnoff bottle and downed it. Elliot approached him carefully. His hands were shaking as he didn’t want to make anything worse. 

“You can’t do anything like this, he needs to lie down,” said Robot, pointing out the awkward position in which they were both. 

Tyrell was sitting down, rendering the process more difficult and Elliot was standing next to the bed. 

“Shut up,” he said out loud, which didn’t seem to bother Tyrell. “Um—You need to—” he gestured for him to rest his back on the mattress. 

Tyrell obliged silently, exhaling loudly as it stretched the wound. He wiped the blood away and pricked his skin, sewing him back up. Tyrell was stoic the whole time, Elliot checking up on him every time he put the needle back into his skin. It didn’t take very long. He put a sturdy bandage over the new stitches, securing his work into place. 

“Thank you,” whispered Tyrell, finally looking at him. 

“I wouldn’t say that too fast, I’m not sure I was qualified to do that—”

“No, for showing me you do care.” 

“Oh.” 

Elliot instinctively looked at their hands. He hadn’t wanted to let go the night before. Tyrell fully sat up and seemed to catch his gaze, because he carefully took Elliot’s hand in his again. Elliot’s eyes met Tyrell’s, unsure. 

He knew what this was. It wasn’t new. He’d kissed guys before, in college. He knew he’d liked it. But this—Tyrell—was different. There was something sick and twisted about allowing himself to let his guard down around him, yet he felt completely at ease doing it. Tyrell knew him in a way nobody else did, he still wasn’t sure why. Maybe this would help solve it, he thought. 

He reached for Tyrell, lowering himself on the bed and leaving very little space between them. His heart was racing. He had never been good at this. Usually he was high, or someone else initiated it. 

Tyrell understood and placed a hand on his face, closing the gap between them. Tyrell took his time, his lips gentle and soft against his. He pulled on Elliot’s shirt, bringing him closer. The kiss became needier, harsher. Months of words unspoken came crashing between the soft breaths they let out. Elliot’s hands had found Tyrell’s neck. 

Then, there was a curt knock at the door, and a “room service!” 

“Busy!” yapped Tyrell back, breaking the kiss. 

They heard the cart roll away. Their breaths were shorter but the moment was gone. Elliot was now sitting on the bed too, only inches away. Tyrell looked at him, while he was looking at his hands, now on his lap. 

“I never knew…” 

Elliot shrugged. He looked up under his lashes, not knowing what to say. 

“I guess it’s always been there. I just haven’t let myself really see it.” 

“I tried telling you once, but—he didn’t let me.” 

Tyrell now had Elliot’s full attention. 

“H—?”

“I can just tell” 

Elliot nervously ran a hand through his hair. 

“That,” Tyrell said, pointing at the gesture, “the other one never does that.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, ashamed. Tyrell’s eyes went wide and he took Elliot’s hands out and into his own. 

“I don’t mind. Any of it, you know. I’m really not one to talk.” 

“Why are you always so nice to me? I treated you like shit…” 

“I’m just drawn to you, Elliot.” 

He took his chin and brought him in for another kiss, this one brief. 

Elliot knew he hadn’t been mistaken last night; when he had watched Tyrell walked away, he’d known that he cared about him more than he could ever admit. Whatever this was, whatever this meant, he didn’t feel like he needed to run from it. 

Tyrell gently let him go and got up as best as he could to get to the bathroom. Robot appeared in the corner of the room, arms crossed. His face was hard to read. 

“Maybe I should’ve let this happen earlier.” 

Elliot glared at him, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of this. 

“It didn’t hurt, did it?” 

He looked at his smirking alter and rolled his eyes. 

“We’ve got work to do. Better get him in on it.” 

  
  



End file.
